


Our Hands Shall be Your Cradle

by unremarkablegirl



Series: Hers Shall Be A Free Life [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Light Angst, Like the lightest but again this should be expected of me, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, memori baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28082766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unremarkablegirl/pseuds/unremarkablegirl
Summary: When Murphy had first entered the tent, he hadn’t said anything, his eyes widened in shock and he couldn’t tear them from the scene in front of him. Emori, sweaty and messy and smiling and joyful and breathtakingly beautiful even after giving birth almost caused him to stumble. And then, he looked down and he saw his,their, daughter for the first time. His knees did buckle then, he had collapsed onto the furs right there, not even caring about the tears he could feel sliding down his face.
Relationships: Emori/John Murphy (The 100)
Series: Hers Shall Be A Free Life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058183
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Our Hands Shall be Your Cradle

Murphy can’t stop staring. He’d had minimal experience with kids before, no experience with a newborn, let alone _his_ newborn. He didn’t expect the baby, his daughter, to be so tiny, so small, so fragile. Emori, tired as she had been from the labour, couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at his shock. She couldn’t help it, it was endearing.

They were alone now, Jackson giving them some privacy and holding the others back, giving them—well, giving Emori—time to breathe. Now, they were curled together on a pile of furs, Emori’s back to Murphy’s chest, their daughter bundled in her arms. She was asleep now, her parents holding a silent vigil over her first breaths on Earth.

When Murphy had first entered the tent, he hadn’t said anything, his eyes widened in shock and he couldn’t tear them from the scene in front of him. Emori, sweaty and messy and smiling and joyful and breathtakingly beautiful even after giving birth almost caused him to stumble. And then, he looked down and he saw his, _their_ , daughter for the first time. His knees did buckle then, he had collapsed onto the furs right there, not even caring about the tears he could feel sliding down his face.

She was just so tiny, that’s all his mind could circle back to. Here, she lay in Emori’s arms, a dark swath of hair, a shock against her pale skin. He looks beyond that, sees Emori’s eyes, and her nose, sees his pointed chin, sees a testament of their love. He sees a whole future for her, a peaceful life without war and loss, a free life not locked in metal hallways, a happy life filled with love and family. He can’t wait, he doesn’t have to. Her future is here.

He swallows, turns his head and brushes his lips to Emori’s temple. She hadn’t spoken either when he first came in, too overwhelmed by the love she saw on his face, choosing instead to focus on the surprise she saw lest she start crying. She feels safe and loved and content. Ever so slowly, she shifts her weight, cradling her daughter to her chest and turning her head to face her John. She doesn’t comment on the tear tracks she sees.

“Do you want to hold her?”

His eyes snap to hers, panic evident. He is scared. He shakes his head, an aborted little movement. She doesn’t push, knowing the worry that wrapped around his heart, knowing how he worries that he won’t be a good father. She doesn’t have that worry. She’s seen the love he has to give, experienced the pureness of his heart, the gentleness of his hands, even with all the crimes and horrors he feels the need to lay claim to. He is a good man, this she knows.

They sit, silent and pondering and wrapped in love. Unthinkingly, Murphy has lifted his hand and is stroking the softness of his daughter’s plump cheek. His thumb, on Emori’s shoulder, mirrors the movement. It would be so easy to crack a joke, to call Emori out on her own staring problem, both of them entranced by their daughter, but he can’t bring himself to disturb the peace.

They both know that they’ll have to let the others in soon, everyone wanting to meet their niece. Emori, always the braver of the two, finally speaks, whisper soft, “Welcome to the world, Bella Monet.”

Murphy cannot help his startled inhale nor the fresh wave of tears. He hadn’t thought about a name, but Emori, sweet, wonderful Emori, had gifted their daughter the perfect name.

“Bella,” he pauses, collects himself, continues, “ready to meet your family?”

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, listen, I did not at the time realize that bella monet would sound like bail money, you cannot hold this against me  
> also yes, they named her after bellamy and monty, fight me
> 
> anyways, come say hi on [tumblr](https://unremarkablegirl.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> (also kudos and feedback sustain me)


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